


Necessary Force

by Fabrisse



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, OMC not really original, Season 2, Stealth Crossover, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-02 15:47:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6572179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma is called to a crime scene at Walker's Coffeehouse</p>
            </blockquote>





	Necessary Force

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to neotoma for:  
> \- The plot bunny  
> \- The Beta  
> \- The physical description assistance

Emma picked up the phone on the first ring. It wasn’t quite time for patrol, and there wasn’t any paperwork from the previous day, so she was bored out of her mind. Small town sheriffing was not for the faint of heart.

Mister Gold’s voice came across the line smoothly. “There’s been an attempted robbery at Walker’s New Age Coffeehouse.”

“Anything I need to bring?”

“No, and you don’t need to hurry. The incident is over.”

“Why didn’t someone call me while it was in progress?”

“It was over very quickly, Sheriff Swan, and I’ll save you some trouble by informing you that you were not my first call.”

Emma saw red for a moment. “Gold if you’ve…”

He interrupted before he could hear the whole threat. “I called the ambulance first.”

“Oh. I’m on my way.”

***  
Walker’s Coffeehouse was one of the few delights of Storybrooke in Emma’s urban opinion. Small towns were a bit creepy what with everyone knowing everyone else and running into each other all the time. It would hurt her reputation in town if she didn’t have breakfast at Granny’s most days. Honestly, breakfast at Granny’s was a treat to be savored, and it was a kick hearing Ruby’s under her breath comments on everything. The problem was Granny’s coffee could clean drains. How it managed to be weak and still leave an overwhelmingly acrid taste for an hour afterward was a mystery for the ages. Most of the time, Emma ordered it and didn’t bother to drink it. 

Walker’s Coffeehouse on the other hand produced coffee that must have been drunk by the gods on Olympus or in Asgard. She didn’t know how he did it, either.

The first time Mary Margaret took her there, she passed along the gossip. Mister Walker might have been seen as an interloper when he arrived. Granny’s was already an institution. Instead, Mister Walker had eaten there a few times and finally had a heart to heart with Granny. He didn’t serve cakes or pies. He specialized in scones and shortbreads. He bought his coffee cakes from the local bakery and his muffins came from Granny. She stopped serving bran muffins at her diner, and Walker served bran muffins exclusively. He had no intention of opening for the early breakfast crowd, either. 

Ruby, of course, had been very taken by the new young man in town. He was a little short for her tastes, she’d said to Emma over a slice of coconut cake one evening, but bright blue eyes and a cleft chin were on the plus side of the balance. The fact that he moved well helped, too. Walker had turned Ruby down, very politely, but quite firmly. There were rumors he might be gay, but that didn’t stop most of the women in town from watching him put the roof terrace on his building shirtless. Emma’d actually been called on to help disperse the crowd since they were blocking the sidewalk. Those days had probably driven in quite a bit of business.

Walker rented the whole building. The coffee house and shop -- everything for your meditation needs, including bongs, Emma had noted -- were on the ground floor. There was a yoga studio and room with a resistance circuit on the next floor up, and the top floor was Walker’s apartment which included a roof terrace where he kept bees and grew some of the more obscure herbs he used in his herbal teas or sandwiches. Emma went to a basic yoga class with him on Saturday mornings, and seeing how well muscled he was made her appreciate why Ruby had been so disappointed.

But it was the coffee -- the Platonic ideal of coffee -- which made Emma moan with pleasure at the first sip. Once she was sheriff, her routine became breakfast at Granny’s, an hour or two at the office to catch up on paperwork, and then the first patrol of the day, ending with coffee and a scone from Walker’s. 

***   
Emma arrived at the coffee shop just as the paramedics were loading someone into the ambulance.

“Is that Walker?” she asked.

“Nah, it’s the second thief. The first one’s already at the hospital.”

Emma nodded as she said her thanks and went into the shop. Gold was sitting at a table in the window, and he gave her one of the small, conspiratorial smiles he had when he was genuinely amused.

Walker was behind the counter and said, “It’s Wednesday: triple espresso and shortbread, right?”

“Statement, actually.”

He smiled at her. “Is there anything that says you can’t take statements with coffee and a shortbread?”

“Well, I haven’t read every rule in the book yet, but I haven’t seen it mentioned.” She paid him for it and pulled out her pad. “So, Mister Walker what happened?”

 

“I looked up from getting Mister Gold’s order together to take to his table,” he nodded in Gold’s direction, “and saw two guys in masks. The one with the gun…”

“Hold it right there. One of them had a gun?”

“Yes, and the other had a knife, three inch double sided blade. Not really a hunting knife.”

“All right,” Emma made a note in her book and said, “Continue, please.”

Walker allowed himself to be distracted getting her order together and went to one of the larger tables near the bonsai maple he kept in a niche. He sat with her and said, “The one with the gun said, ‘open up the register and give us all your money.’ Honestly, he sounded like a bad western or gangster movie. I distracted them by ringing the register and went around to the front of the counter to make a citizen’s arrest. They, um, fought. It was all over in a couple of minutes and Mister Gold helped by calling you and the ambulance.”

“I see. Were you injured?”

“No, maybe a bruise on my arm where one of them threw an elbow. A little arnica will fix me right up.”

“Thank you. I’ll have a statement typed up. If you can come by to sign it this afternoon, we can press charges against them.”

“Sure. I have half an hour between closing down and my yin yoga class.” 

A customer came in and Emma nodded that he could go back to work. She’d just sighed at the first sip of her espresso when Mister Gold’s shadow fell over the table.

“May I join you?”

Emma sighed again, but motioned to the vacated chair. “Just let me enjoy my first bite of shortbread, okay?”

“Nothing should interfere with perfect shortbread.”

She broke off a piece and ate it. “Oh, that’s good. Now, how can I help you, Mister Gold?”

“It’s how I can help you, Sheriff. You haven’t taken my statement.”

“I know you were here, but I didn’t think you’d be cooperative. You’re right. I need a statement. So, tell me about it.”

Gold looked at her with some amusement. “Since they’re both in the hospital, you don’t have too much work to find out the thieves’ identities. However, they may want to bring assault charges against Walker.”

“A pair of robbers are going to want to charge the most laid-back man in Storybrooke with assault? That’s ridiculous.”

Gold sipped his tea.

Emma said, “Why do you come here? That’s not as rude as it sounds. It’s just that I’ve found everyone who comes here likes something different.”

“Have you tasted what most restaurants call tea? It’s barely tinted water. Walker knows how to make a perfect cup. And he uses my favorite scone recipe.”

Emma nodded and said, “I feel the same way about his coffee. So, now that I’ve finished my shortbread, tell me what you saw.”

“Two men came into the shop. One had his gun out from the time he entered, the other pulled his knife when his compatriate asked for the money in the till. Walker pressed whatever key makes that antique register ring without the drawer opening which distracted them. He then vaulted over the counter, broke the wrist, and dislocated the knee of the one holding the gun before laying him out so hard that I’m certain he has a concussion. You saw the one with the knife going. His knee is probably dislocated, too. He might have a sprained ankle and a very mild concussion. The best part was this took less than thirty seconds.”

“Walker? Someone asked why he didn’t teach karate or tae kwan do instead of aikido. He said that he didn’t want to teach offensive moves, just defensive.”

“Well, he certainly defended the shop,” Gold said. “And if I may point out, he said he didn’t want to teach those moves, not that he wasn’t proficient in them.”

Emma looked up from her notebook and said, “Fair point. Thank you for being a good citizen, Mister Gold. In your opinion, was Walker’s use of force excessive?”

“They’re alive, so no.”

She swallowed to keep from saying something Gold might take the wrong way. Finally, she said, “Are you worried they might try something at your shop? It’s reputed to be the most profitable in town.”

“No. And as Walker’s landlord, I’ll give him a discount on the rent this month. I’ve never seen such a perfect take down in person.”

“Yes, well, I can’t pretend I’ve never used violence.”

“Sheriff Swan, in my experience you’re more likely to think your way out of a situation than fight your way out. It’s probably far less satisfying. Now if you’ll excuse me, I should go back to my shop.”

“Of course.”

She watched him leave a ten dollar bill in the tip jar before striding out. 

At the door, he turned back and said, “I assume my statement will be ready for signature after closing tonight?”

“Yes, Mister Gold.”

Emma went up to the counter and said, “What scones do you have today?”

“Plain, of course, it’s part of my lease with Gold,” he began.

“Seriously, he put that you had to serve plain scones daily in your lease?”

Walker smiled broadly. “Mister Gold takes his scones seriously. It’s also why I have clotted cream on the menu. In fairness, it’s been surprisingly popular. Anyway, chocolate-cherry, whole wheat blueberry, and oatmeal currant are the other flavors.”

“I’ll take a blueberry and a currant to go, please,” she warred with herself for a moment and added, “And a side of clotted cream. It does sound good.”

Walker bagged her requests and rang it up. 

“One last thing. I know your last name because it’s on the shop, but I’ll need your first name and middle initial for the statement.”

“Sure, it’s Luke. Luke S. Walker.”

Emma stilled for a moment and thought about the fussy waiter who worked weekends and glanced at Artie, the cafe’s terrier. Henry had figured he was Tramp, but a three legged dog with a wheel prosthetic wasn’t how she remembered him. She bent down to pet Artie who’d come over and bumped against her leg for attention. “Did you make his prosthetic yourself?”

“Yeah, I like to work with my hands, figure things out. Artie’s getting a sister next weekend. I’ve already done the paperwork at the pound.”

“What’ll she be called?”

“Deety, maybe or Leigh.”

Emma stood back up and said, “I like Deety, not that you need my vote.”

She gathered her things and headed out. At the door she looked around the shop and nodded to herself. “Don’t forget, Mister Walker, I need you to sign that statement today.”

“I’ll see you this afternoon, Sheriff.”

Emma walked back to her office trying to absorb the implications. If she was right -- if Henry was right -- then there was a Jedi running the local yoga studio. She swallowed hard and wondered how things like this had become a normal part of her life. On the positive side, she was fairly certain Regina didn’t know _Star Wars._


End file.
